


we are electric pulses

by samodiv



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Agender Character, Agender Éponine, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cosette And Enjolras Are Siblings, Courfeyrac has dogs, Disney References, F/F, Ferre Cooks To Relax What A Pure Man, Genderqueer Courfeyrac, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Multi, Neither do I, Non-Binary Jean Prouvaire, Trans Male Character, bulgarian 2013 memes, chetta is this beautiful trans girl i am so in lov??, coffee shop au/chatfic, cosette and ep are engaged, grantaire doesn't know paris at all, mont is not in a mob, rock star grantaire, this is gonna be so cheesy, trans man Bahorel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-06-10 13:11:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6957844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samodiv/pseuds/samodiv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Oh, for High Heaven’s sake, Enjy, if you refuse the man of my dreams I will personally flay you alive!”</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Cosette’s favorite musician just so happens to pass by a rally and wants Enjolras’ voice for a song. Enjolras wishes people would listen to his words and not just his voice. Cosette won’t let him live if he denies, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, um, this is my first work here I think, I gotta say English is not my native language also I have no clue how Paris cafeterias work, or Paris itself, or France in general for that matter - I'm just a tiny from Eastern Europe who wants to share this gay thing with the world, ya feel? Obviously the characters don't belong to me, also title is from the song "I am disappeared" by Frank Turner(bc R is so him, come on).  
> This chapter features a mild reference to drinking.  
> Comments would be appreciated.  
> I hope you like the thing I just thinged :)
> 
> Update: Enj's texts are in Italics, R's texts are like his but bolder (if you catch the super faint reference you rule)!

                Enjolras sometimes really regretted sharing things with his sister. Cosette seemed like a real angel to most, but if she put her mind to it, she could make you do most anything. Currently, she was at the glaring stage, which came after the puppy eyes stage failed. Most people gave into whatever Cosette’s will was way before the glaring stage, which seemed to be reserved for her closest people(Enjolras knew her like the back of his hand, after all, and Éponine could be most resilient if they decided to).

                “Cos, seriously, I don’t even _know_ that guy, and he clearly expressed he finds my ideas could only belong to a blind man, which is not only ableist but way offensive, and…” “Oh, for High Heaven’s sake, Enjy, if you refuse the man of my dreams I will personally flay you alive!” She cracked her neck, her eyes shimmering with determination, and Enjolras raised his palms, evidently convinced. His sister then smiled pleasantly and nodded, as if dismissing him; Enjolras rolled his eyes and gave off a sigh, typing into his phone screen.

                _Hello. Perhaps this proposal of yours could be further discussed?_

****

                This entire mess had started after the rally the day before. It had been against the excessively xenophobic politician running for mayor, and Enjolras had really put his heart into writing a moving speech, with Jehan adding some much needed Romantic-styled remarks here and there(not that she didn’t have her own speech to write, but that was Jehan). Getting off the stage, Enjolras had been overrun with emotions, hyped, shaking uncontrollably – and still, running into a person, toppling over them and ending up laying flat _on top_ of them was not quite excusable, nor was it tolerable. The person had laughed, however, and had introduced themself as a Michel Grantaire, not from around here, you speak shit but your voice is amazing, do you wanna do me a favor? Enjolras had blinked. Blushed, maybe. Scowled, certainly, and explained that the sound of his voice mattered little in comparison to the importance of what it was he spoke. According to this Michel, what Enjolras spoke suited only someone with a head in the clouds, to put it lightly, but that wasn’t important, do you by any chance want to be in one of my songs?

                It had turned out that this person was _the_ Grantaire that Cosette always squealed about – Grantaire the punk rock star, Grantaire the poet, Grantaire the hottest guy ever and you know damn well I’m not into guys. Enjolras could see why his sister would find the person attractive – while they definitely didn’t possess the face of a model, they had a certain charm which made it difficult to see the imperfections without looking to. Attractive or not, however, the person had openly mocked Enjolras’ ideology, and that was a wound he wouldn’t easily forgive.

                Michel had taken the liberty of saving their phone number among Enjolras’ contacts list, in case he changed his mind, had giggled a bit and then went about their business, followed suit by two bulky people in black garments – bodyguards, perhaps, but of course Enjolras wouldn’t have noticed them earlier. He’d dismissed the idea of agreeing to the project without really considering it and had carried on with his evening plans, which consisted of the traditional detailed rally recap and some drinks for whoever drank(Courfeyrac’s attempt at dragging everyone to a karaoke place had failed, much to Enjolras’ delight). He’d passed by his sister’s in the morning to check if she had finished reading _that one book he had lent her months ago, for fuck’s sake_ (naturally, she hadn’t), and thought he’d humor her with the story of falling on top of her rock idol. Bad, bad idea.

****

                _This is Enjolras, by the way. Also known as the one who almost killed you yesterday._

_**lol obvs. u so look like u use proper french in fucken texts :D**_

Enjolras couldn’t believe this person was Cosette’s source of inspiration for her slam poetry.

                **_wna go get coffe?_**

**_or hav u already had 1??_ **

_I’ve had two, in fact, but that is in no way a sufficient amount – where do you suggest we meet?_

_**o so ur a coffe luvr. nice me 2**_

_**um i only know the small one near the thing?**_

_**ummmm**_

_The thing?_

_**give me a sec**_

_**the Thing that ppl visit Paris bc of**_

_**u know the thing**_

_**not the tall thing the one thats like a triangle**_

_You mean Le Louvre?_

_**ye S!!**_

_**that**_

_**theres a cof place near it**_

_… There are literally half a hundred restaurants and cafés in that immediate area…_

_**how wld *i* kno**_

_**i havnt been here in ages**_

_**ugh sorry – can u just meet me in front of the triangle thing??**_

_I’m going to need an hour at best._

_**i hav e a comic book ill wait :-)**_

_**dont b too late tho**_

_I’ll see to it._

_**:P**_

Enjolras _might_ have smiled at that, before rushing outside while muttering something about cocky foreigners under his nose.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya!  
> This one is a bit longer, not really much of a plot but yeah.  
> A dead name is mentioned, also lots of smoking.  
> I hope it's not confusing that Enj calls R by his first name but I'll work on that in further chapters!!

                Michel Grantaire The Rock Star was being late, their phone kept going straight to voicemail, they weren’t replying to texts, and Enjolras just wasn’t the patient type. Plus he hadn’t brought his reader with, nor any notebook for that matter(he had recently started trying to focus on the people he was hanging out with, which was usually hard for him, what with the bookstores he tended to stuff in his bags); he could be spending this time editing a speech, or one of his papers, hell, he could even be watching a TV show, if he had the habit, which he didn't. However, a habit that he did have was smoking, especially when stressed or annoyed (of which he was certainly the latter), and he’d smoked five cigarettes already while waiting - good thing his friend Musichetta was on shift at the Starbucks nearby so he could sit on a table outside instead of just walking around the Louvre for all this time. Suddenly, his phone buzzed and beeped, which lead to him jumping upright and ashing all over his jeans. “Damn it,” he muttered, trying to dust the dirt off with one hand and unlock the phone screen with the other.

                **_heeeeey Really sorry that im late I have been delayed its a L ong story will tell when i get there!!!!!!_**

**_(((u better not hve left already hahah))_ **

This was too much even for Enjolras’ sweet, all-forgiving soul.

                _I am waiting ._

_**Really Really sorry im running twrds u!! wher exactly r u!!!!**_

**** _I am sat at an outer table at the Starbucks right outside the musee, you should be able to reach me easily ._

_**O k ! actually thats perfect we cld just sit ther bc the place i had in mind isnt work 2day!! i shld b there in 5 min tops im So sorr**_

Enjolras pinched his nose in frustration, put his cigarette off and headed towards Chetta inside.

                “An espresso after all?” she smiled knowingly, and he groaned.

                “Double shot.”

                “He better be here before it’s ready,” she giggled. Enjolras really didn’t feel like joking.

                “I’ll go sit outside. Text me when it’s done, will you?”

                She nodded and he all but ran back to his seat, unlit cigarette dangling off his mouth.

                He still remembered how he had met Musichetta. Back in ninth grade, he had been too busy avoiding people and trying to find himself to pay any attention to his classmates; however, she had been a sight to behold even then, when she had still gone by her dead name and had been more of a furious storm than the radiant glory she had grown to be. No one had dared to badmouth her, not to her face at least, and it hadn’t been so much because of her boyfriends who would have done anything to keep her safe – no one simply had the courage to attack this force of nature. One day, she had come to school with a bruise on her neck, and Enjolras had been so angry, despite not knowing her personally, that he had shyly offered her his fragile fists; she had laughed her face off and called him an innocent petal, and rushed to introduce him to one of her boyfriends, Bossuet, who had turned out to be the (extremely embarrassed) one at fault for the hickey. To the current day, Chetta and Joly(the other boyfriend) kept joking about it, and Bossuet kept blushing at the memory.

                **_i can c u but im p far and theres this Lots of ladies infront of me i can t move???? Yikes_**

Enjolras choked on cigarette smoke trying not to laugh at the imagery. He looked around and saw a suspicious bundle of elderly citizens, a jumping dark-haired figure behind them. He giggled and made a small wave, getting an enthusiastic one in return.

                _About time._

_**U tell Me i thought i was gna die be4 reachin u**_

**** _There is still a chance. :-D_

Enjolras had not sent an emoji in his life. On the other hand, watching Michel trying to run towards him was quite the entertaining sight. Enjolras had to throw his cigarette away in order not to choke on smoke again.

                “I AM EXTREMELY SORRY,” Michel yelled when they were about ten feet apart. Enjolras attempted to force his face into some sort of grumpy expression, then gave in to laughing at the poor person. Such a rock star, wow. “I, really, so very sorry, couldn’t get here any faster,” they were gasping by that point, arms on their knees, trying to catch their breath.

                “That’s Paris, being late is no extravagance. Still could have answered my calls, perhaps.”

                “Let’s get coffee and I’ll explain, yeah? What will you have?”

                “That which I already ordered,” Enjolras sighed. Michel’s appalled face was yet another vision he would certainly remember for a lengthy period. Although, the fact that he was noticing so much in this person was quite puzzling… He decided to dismiss that train of thought and went inside, instantly met by Musichetta’s warm smile.

                “Was just ‘bout to text you but saw the hustle outside,” she giggled, then turned to Michel. “You’re the late one, eh?”

                Their face turned about eight different shades of red.

                “I didn’t _mean_ to be late,” he muttered. “Umm, can I have an Americano, please?”

                “Sure thing. And here’s yours, Enj,” she handed Enjolras his coffee, which he would have attempted to down then and there, had he not the right mind. “D’you have a name, or should I just write “Late one”?” she smiled at Michel, who groaned.

                “Come to think of it, that might be better. Mind if we sit out there? I’m dying for a smoke.”

                Enjolras simply grinned.

                “Right, so I’m going out of the hotel, both my guards are with me mind you, and there’s this, this ridiculous bunch of teenagers right outside – do you have a lighter?” Enjolras silently handed them his one. “Thanks. So, okay, I think to myself, R, this can’t slow you down that much, right? And I give autographs alright, some of them took selfies with me which was a _disaster_ , why would they want to have pictures of this face – anyways, this must have taken 15 minutes tops, but also exactly the delay that a traffic jam would wait for. I think we were stuck in the car for about an hour, if not more…”

                They go on about how irritated they were, and how someone was trying to sell pickles to car drivers there, and so on, but all Enjolras can focus on is how adorable their gestures and facial expressions are. Not too punk rock, admittedly, but they were still very cool. He probably had to ask about pronouns at a point, though. And stop staring at Michel’s chapped lips around their cigarette, or the paint-stained tips of their rough looking fingers, which would feel so nice on Enjolras’ skin – enough. He shook his head and took a swig of coffee before reaching for another cigarette.

                “… and at last my blasted phone turned on and I see, like, ten thousand missed calls and a thrillion fucking messages, I have not felt this bad ever.”

                [muse <3] tell ur boy to come get his coffee, franc doesn’t want 2 yell this out loud

                [~enj~] Who would?

                “Your coffee is ready, by the way,” he smiled. Why did he smile. What the hell, Enjolras. Michel smiled back, though, and rushed inside with a “Oh, blessed be the skies!”

                Enjolras giggled. Then shook his head.

                When Michel was back, Enjolras had straightened up(or tried to, anyways).

                “Two questions?” a tad of insecurity in his tone.

                “Go ‘head,” they shrugged, preoccupied with their coffee.

                “What pronouns do you use?”

                “Um, he? I’m cis so, what else would I?”

                Enjolras nodded.

                “Me too, by the way.”

                Michel nodded.

                This was getting awkward.

                “And the other question?”

                “Why did you decide that dissing my speech would get me to agree to take part in your art?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (the end of the conversation is so clumsy Yikes)  
> (this is probably not what these notes stuff are used for I just wanna say... Yikes)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all, this is so late but yeah.  
> I finally got round to writing from R's POV, it's not really good but yeah. I seem to end everything with "but yeah", don't I. Anyways, "Hulk!!!" is Bahorel, as you can probably guess, and "the Grandest of Rs" is, well, R.  
> Smoking is happening, still the regular kind but still not a cool thing and don't smoke, kids (said he who's been a regular for the past two years)(yikes). Also some adulting is referenced, not the work kind. And there's a lot of unproductive thought patterns, because this is Grantaire.  
> (Plus, I've noticed I don't do well with sticking to a single tense, so I hope stuff make sence grammar-wise despite that.)  
> Comments and kudos would be lovely, but like, if you feel like it.

                Grantaire’s phone beeped before he could start panicking.

                **_You have (1) new messages from Hulk!!!._**

                Yikes. “Gimme a sec, I need to answer this?”

                Frankly, he probably didn’t, only Enjolras was staring at him like if he could kill him with just staring, he’d, like, take _pleasure_ in doing so… Grantaire flashed him a nervous smile before turning his attention to the small screen.

                [Hulk!!!] : boss…

                [the Grandest of Rs] : yea rel sup? sth wrong??

                [Hulk!!!] : i was just gna ask the same

                [Hulk!!!] : did u get to the person

                [the Grandest of Rs] : yea we fine

                [the Grandest of Rs] : well not fine but yea

                [the Grandest of Rs] :  i got to him hes a guy actually

                [Hulk!!!] : oh ok cool

                [Hulk!!!] : will u b needing us anytime soon

                Grantaire grinned.

                [the Grandest of Rs] : no kids hve fun just not in the car pls

                [Hulk!!!] : who do u think we r

                [the Grandest of Rs] : -.-

                [the Grandest of Rs] : srsly u have a room. use it.

                [Hulk!!!] : ok call mont if u need us im leaving the phone 2 get chargd

                [the Grandest of Rs] : (y)

Enjolras was glaring. He was handsome even when he was glaring, Grantaire was so fucked.

                “Sorry, my bodyguards are babies and can’t handle life. They won’t be texting me more. Um, where were we?” he took a swig of the awful coffee. Should have ordered something sweeter, he thought to himself.

                “You were supposed to explain your audacity, hopefully.”

                Oh, yeah. That.

                For a rock star with the reputation of someone who easily got his way with people of his fancy, Grantaire really didn’t know how to talk to people _that_ pretty. Granted, he didn’t stumble upon actual walking Botticelli paintings on the daily, either, so there was no surprise witnessing this not only ridiculously handsome but thrice as ridiculously well-read person, ready to tear the whole world into sorry pieces by words alone, had done things to Grantaire, and specifically his ability to hold a conversation. He really hadn’t meant to offend the lad, not in the slightest, he just tended to blabber a ton when anxious, was all. Not that he agreed with, or even _understood_ any part of Enjolras’ speech, but Lord, had it sounded enchanting.

                “Didn’t intend acting audaciously,” he smiled, which probably looked awkward, so he tried to not smile. Which probably failed. “Is audaciously even a word?” why was he giggling, was he set on making an ass of himself? Bloody hell, mate, get yourself together. He made an attempt at sincerely looking at Enjolras, continuing “Anyways, really, didn’t mean to offend you one bit. Honestly I have no clue what you were going on about in your speech, I don’t really know what’s going on in here. Politics-wise. I uh, pretty much came to you to say you sounded great? Was only meant to say that, too, but I speak too much when I’m- anyways.” He laughed nervously.

                Enjolras nodded, his face still in a scowl, staring at his coffee, which he was grasping a tad too tight, or so it seemed.

                “I see.” He took a cigarette out, put it between his lips(beautiful, beautiful lips, but that was not the point), then yanked it out and turned his cold glare back on Grantaire. “Look, I understand that you’re some celebrity and thus expect everyone to fall at your feet more oft than not, but being uneducated on topics as invigorating as the political situation in the capital of France is negligent at best, I fail to grasp how you could possibly allow yourself that sort of naive –“

                “Mate, it ain’t like I can change anything about this, I’m only in Paris since the weekend,” Grantaire shrugged. “Sorry I didn’t Google the political situation, I fairly don’t have the time to Google the weather forecast most of the time. All I wanted was to tell you that your voice is really great, take it as you wish.”

                Enjolras puffed out smoke, seeming ready to start arguing again, but something stopped him. Instead, he smirked.

                “What?”

                “Thought you wanted me to partially narrate a political song of yours?”

                Grantaire positively tasted blood as he bit his tongue. Not good. “What of it?”

                “How come you have written anything political if you find politics so unnecessary?”

                “I don’t really fancy them, no, but I can write angsty lyrics that are loosely based on political events quite easily.” Come to think of it, that was his usual course of action. “I, uh. I’ve had this idea for a while? Like, if I could combine Hotel Books with whatever it is I usually record. Then I hate my speaking voice for records and I don’t know anyone whose voice sounds all that compelling, so I had pretty much given up on it ‘til I heard you yell stuff. Uh, sorry again I didn’t hear what you were yelling about.”

                Grantaire was probably sweating, and most probably blushing, and this was all such a disaster. He craved for Montparnasse to call him in urgency, anything that could get him out of embarrassing himself – but Montparnasse actually had a love life, as his beloved had just informed him. Right. “Look, it’s – it’s not such a deal, really. If you don’t want in, that’s fine, it was a stupid suggestion anyway.” He lit a new cigarette and inhaled too much, too fast, but he’d be damned before coughing. Still, there was the faint pain in the back of his throat. It wasn’t all that unwelcome.

                “I’d need to see the text first,” Enjolras mumbled, seemingly to himself. He then cleaned his throat and turned a questioning look to Grantaire, and Grantaire didn’t remember doing anything bad enough to deserve the amount of pain he was in, thank you very much, what the fuck. To say Enjolras’ eyes were distracting would be an understanding; Grantaire vaguely suspected it was bad to be that attracted because heterochromia was technically some sort of illness(he should really look into it, he thought), but one eye was impossibly pale, almost more white than blue, and the contrast between it and the warm brown of his other eye and skin was horribly pleasing. Still, the artist thought he was managing well – he’d only drawn the man in front of him once so far, and it hadn’t been all that creepy, because it’d fit the concept of that one piece he had abandoned last October, and – “Um, if, if you don’t have it with, you can send it to me, I suppose?,” which reminded Grantaire that before he’d started dreaming about art, Enjolras had asked for something. The text.

                The text that he hadn’t even gotten round to thinking up, what’s left about writing it.

                The thing was, Grantaire rarely thought stuff over. (Actually, he simply didn’t, but that wasn’t a productive way of seeing things.) Seeing Enjolras at that rally, all he’d thought about was “wow, oh shit, how are they so, what the Hell, I _have_ to talk to them?????”, not necessarily in that particular order. Still, going over to him with no subject to talk _about_ had seemed lame, so his brain had settled on “you’re a rock star! say you need them for rock star stuff!” and now he was in so much shit.

                Except…

                “Do you have a pen?” Grantaire asked, all rushed, but Enjolras didn’t seem to have a bag in hiding somewhere, and why wasn’t _Grantaire_ carrying one – actually, he was. “Nevermind,” he said, searching his hoodie’s pockets for that sharpie. “Right. Okay. I’ll just…”

                Very, very rarely, he got raw ideas _and_ at a good time, this was basically daydream material. He just needed to tame it a bit, and maybe don’t write _that,_ it’s a tad awkward, also tone the London slang down, would you, but overall, it’d do. Not like he was good at writing, or at anything, but this was not that shitty, this was going to _work_. If he knew how to end it, shit, shit, _shit_ – he looked up at Enjolras and smiled, hoping it didn’t look as embarrassed as he felt. Enjolras smiled back, albeit kinda stiffly. (It was still hot, which was still very far from the point) There was a curly lock sticking in an odd manner from his mane-like hair and Grantaire wanted to reach and smooth it out. Then again, he also wanted to maybe not die right now, so he tried to focus back on the napkin which he was scrawling on. His handwriting had never been tidy, and the sharpie was in this outrageous color that would have been cyan if it wasn’t a sharpie used on a napkin, also it was glittery(and had probably been scented once, raspberries or something). An ending, you need an ending, stop getting distracted, this is so pathetic, man. You maybe also need another coffee. Or some sleep.

                All in all, Grantaire was in need of many things, most of which easier to achieve than getting the vision sitting opposite of him to kiss him. Or, like, at least hold his hand, or something. Enjolras seemed like he’d break someone’s wrist if they tried to touch hands with him. Grantaire bit his lip, suddenly finding the words again; he scribbled the last sentence in a rush, as if it was going to run away from him if he wasted even a second, and finally lit a cigarette as he was handing Enjolras the napkin. How he managed to start the lighter with his trembling hand, he had no clue.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is beyond late, but whatever.  
> Smoking and drinking are happening, also adulting is explicitly mentioned.   
> [the Grandest of Rs] - Grantaire  
> [mind yr ass] - Montparnasse  
> (most of this chapter is R texting Mont i'm sorry about that but i have no time or motivation to write)(however, next week i'll be in paris so maybe things will get accurate, location-wise :D)

 

                         Technically, Grantaire knew that staying a bit longer wouldn’t literally end his life. However, if Enjolras had looked at him in amazement for a second longer( _of course he’s surprised that_ you _can write_ )... Thus, Grantaire fled, muttering out some excuse about how he forgot he has an interview in a bit. He didn’t. ( _why would anyone want to interview you your art is no news and who’d give a penny for_ your _thoughts, you’re a joke–_ ) He did have to drink and get as far away from that man with his holier-than-thou act as he could, so now he was almost sprinting up the street. When he decided he was at a safe distance, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it, frantically typing away on his phone.

                         [the Grandest of Rs] : mont

                         [the Grandest of Rs] : honeypie

                         [the Grandest of Rs] : baby boy

                         [the Grandest of Rs] : r u done fucking my other homie

                         [mind yr ass] : wtf boss literallt wtf

                         [the Grandest of Rs] : i take it u hve <3

                         [the Grandest of Rs] : which is perfect cos u need 2 save me

                         [mind yr ass] : CALL YM NAM

                         [the Grandest of Rs] : …. isnt that rels job tho

                         [mind yr ass] : omg taire lol

                         [the Grandest of Rs] : srsly come pick m up unless u wnt me to die

                         [mind yr ass] : boiii

                         [mind yr ass] : did it go bad w the

                         [mind yr ass] : screenshot.jpg

                         [the Grandest of Rs] : MONT IM GNA FIRE U IF U KEEP SCREENSHOTTING MY DRNK TEXTS ABT HOTTIES THIS IS GETTIG RIDICULOU

                         [mind yr ass] : my lov 4 u is RIDICKULOUS

                         [the Grandest of Rs] : listne if u wna quote disney @ me insted of payig attention 2 my pain thats fine im gna go find sum1 2 drink wit

                         [mind yr ass] : Yikes

                         [the Grandest of Rs] : go fck ur BOYRFIEND while i mourn my life DICK

                         [mind yr ass] : jeez

                         [mind yr ass] : it’d take us awhile 2 get to the fcin louvr

                         Yeah, no need now, was there? Grantaire huffed out smoke and looked around. He was pretty far from the Louvre; it was still visible in the distance, but he couldn’t see blonde curls, which was the point.

                         [mind yr ass] : boss

                         [mind yr ass] : im actuallt gettig worried now

                         He started looking for bars nearby, but this was a tedious task as both Mont and Rel started calling him every other minute and hanging up would mean he’s simply annoyed and not _profoundly pissed_. Eventually, he gave up on googling pubs and asked a passerby if they knew of one. Grantaire was wary of his accent and grammar, the person was all smiles and offered to walk him.

                         “Nah, I’m not going to be fun company right now,” Grantaire smirked. The person waved him off. “’S cool, they make nice cakes there too and I’m gonna grab some,” they shrugged, then offered a hand. “I’m Courfeyrac, by the way. Any pronouns work for me.” Grantaire fully smiled now, shaking Courfeyrac’s hand. “Michel, he/him/his, pleased to make your acquaintance.” They grinned at each other and headed down the street. Grantaire’s phone started beeping again before any conversation could be made.

                         [mind yr ass] : WHRE DID U SHOVE YOUR PHON

                         Grantaire knew he should probably reply at this point, and groaned at the thought, when he received a phonecall from an unknown number. It could be Floreal, she’d mentioned something about changing her phone. Fuck. He glanced apologetically at Courfeyrac, who mouthed “it’s ok”. Bless this person.

                         “Floreal?” “Not quite,” a very, very not-Flo voice purred on the other end. “I’m Jehan, I’ve been fucking your two lovely friends this past hour. They’re worried about you,” as if that’s a normal thing to say to a stranger. Grantaire didn’t know how to react, so he burst into laughter. “Tell the pricks I’m still pissed at them,” he finally managed. Bahorel probably pried the caller’s phone from their hands at that point, because now he was screeching in Grantaire’s ear. “R, R LOOK WE’RE SO SORRY WE JUST MET JEHAN SHE’S AN ANGEL AND YOU KINDA TEXTED MONT WHILE WE WERE IN THE HEAT OF STUFF” “Rel, volume control.” “Oops. Anyways, we’re really worried, why didn’t you pick up your phone, where _are_ you?!” Grantaire sighed. “I’m headed towards a bar, I’ll call you to pick me up later,” he spat out, ending the call. Worried was one thing, sex life details – entirely another.

                         Not that he wasn’t beyond happy for Mont and Rel. They’d been the first openly queer people he’d ever met, back when he’d been starting eight grade in a new town and they’d been in tenth. Even back then, they’d been quite the sight: Montparnasse with his absurd faux leopard fur coats and Bahorel with his constantly bruised knuckles and neon-colored vests. Grantaire had been so fascinated with them, unable to believe being in a relationship with another guy could be that easy, that effortless. They’d practically adopted him once he came out to them, and done their best to save him from whatever high school bullies there were. When he first started getting recognized as a performer, it’d seemed only natural for the couple to be his bodyguards. He loved the two men with all his heart, and was extremely glad to have them in his life – but hearing about whatever went down in their bedroom had never been exactly thrilling. (Like listening to your parents discuss such stuff, ew.)

                         “Sorry about that,” Grantaire turned to Courfeyrac, who was trying to stifle their giggle. “Your friends are loud, huh?” they waggled their eyebrows, Grantaire huffed. “Yeah.”  He lit a new cigarette, noticing with some sadness that he only had one left. “They mean no harm,” he was trying to convince himself more than Courfeyrac.

                         Their walk towards the bar was spent in a pleasant conversation, and Grantaire quickly grew to like Courfeyrac – they were witty and charming, with more dimples than curls and a soft laugh. They were studying law in university and sounded oddly excited about it, despite admitting the lectures weren’t too thrilling and the teachers even less; their hobbies included clubbing, walking their three dogs(a labrador named Suzette, a pug named Henri and a golden retriever pup going by “Fluffball”), reading X-men comics, passionately investing themself in soap operas and reality shows, and “yelling about stuff”. Grantaire tried to sound interesting without mentioning he’s a musician, because the person hadn’t recognized him yet and Grantaire didn’t brag. They exchanged phone numbers before Courfeyrac left him at the bar, making him promise they’ll hang out sometime and kissing him loudly on the cheek. Grantaire was charmed. He ordered a pint of ale instead of the whiskey he’d had in mind, and sipped it while scratching down words on his jeans with that sharpie. He wasn’t sure if it was going to be a song just yet, but he figured it was worth giving it a shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> because i know it was unclear - that rally(which was the previous day i'm so very lost in the time frame), Grantaire saw Enjolras but Rel and Mont saw JEHAN, and politely asked for her phone number, and flirted with her all night via texts, and yeah. Rel and Mont are in an open relationship. I'll probably give more detail on everything in further chapters, but for now...  
> (also, if someone wants to write the smut between these three that I didn't, link me)


	5. another filler chapter holy sh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was started on July 19th.... I'm so beyond sorry I just couldn't write at all?  
> Explicit mentions of sexual activities are featured, and Enjolras doesn't really have the most positive thought pattern.
> 
> chat names:  
> ~enj~ - enj  
> Ant-man - ferre  
> glitterkink - courf  
> jeHan grey uwu - jehan  
> muse <3 - musichetta  
> buzzcut(e) - Bossuet  
> jolliest - joly  
> gaywitCh1 - cosette  
> gEywitch2 - eponine
> 
> Enjolras texting Grantaire appears simply in italic.  
> Hopefully I'll manage the next chapter soon!!

Enojlras didn't really have much to do with his day. Unike this one, his Saturdays were usually overflowing with social justice group meetings or rallies or whatnot ("You'll exhaust yourself into an early grave," Combeferre always said), but he couldn't help it. If he had as many things scheduled as possible, he felt like less of a waste of space.

It was weird, having people look up to him when he couldn't look at the mirror and not be disappointed most days.

Save for the gathering that night, this particular day was empty; when Michel rushed off, Enjolras had no clue what to do next. He wished he had a book, or a notepad, anything to keep him occupied - sadly, he had but his phone, and he was running low on data. He groaned, frustrated. Musichetta probably wouldn't mind if he hovered around at her workplace until her shift ended - but that was really not a cool thing to do. He found himself wandering in the gardens past the Louvre; he hadn't done that in a while, and frankly, he'd missed it. There weren't that many people around, which was all in order for early March. Few sunlight to bask into, and air not too chilly, although Enjolras was more than glad he went out with a sweater instead of a T-shirt.

He sat on a bench near the swamp, as everyone had started calling it, and pulled out his phone.

 

**_You have entered the group conversation "WE ARE ALL SLUTS FOR JUSTICE" ( ~enj~, Ant-man, glitterkink, jeHan grey uwu, muse <3, buzzcut(e), jolliest, gaywitCh1, gEywitch2 )_ **

 

_[~enj~] : Friends, I might be in need of your expertise on a situation._

 

Meaning to elaborate, he started typing more, including details about how absurdly husky Michel's voice was, but there were suddenly two new messages. He frowned at the screen.

 

_[glitterkink] : I JUST MET THE CUTEST_

_[jeHan grey uwu] : hoho guess who just fucked two guys_

 

Natural.

 

_[glitterkink] : you WHAT_

_[~enj~] : ... I hope you were safe, Jehan..._

_[jeHan grey uwu] : YES COURF EAT MY ASS_

_[jeHan grey uwu] : omg enjy_

_[jeHan grey uwu] : you sweet duckling_

_[jolliest] : JEHAN MY SISTER TIS A PLEASURE FOR ME TO WELCOME YOU IN HEAVEN_

_[jeHan grey uwu] : JOLLLLI U WERE ABS RIGHT IT IS SO HTE BEST_

_[muse <3] : awwww both my js are having good sex now awwww_

_[jeHan grey uwu] : i hope it keeps on happning & not a 1 time thign but? thanks chett <33333_

_[muse <3] : <3333333_

_[glitterkink] : ok this is a #Holy moment but_

_[glitterkink] : remmeber how i said i met THE CTUEST_

_[muse <3] : courf ur such an attentionluvr69_

_[glitterkink] : wink wink_

_[glitterkink] : anyways..._

_[glitterkink] : can i invite him 2 the party tonigh_

_[Ant-man] : I have not been lurking until now but Mx. Laurent Courfeyrac ...._

_[glitterkink] : #tfw ur daddy gets possessive <33_

_[glitterkink] : no homo but like_

_[glitterkink] : he's literally so soft but also so Emo i wna lift his spirits_

_[buzzcut(e)] : this is literally so homo_

_[glitterkink] : I CAN LIKE A BOY WITHUT WANTING HIS ASS_

 

At that, Enjolras started laughing so hard an elderly citizen sitting nearby glanced up from their journal to give him a horrified look.

 

_[~enj~] : Yeah, sure_

_[Ant-man] : um_

_[muse <3] : no scientific proof on that tho_

_[jolliest] : TBH_

_[glitterkink] : IM HNOESTL FEELING SO ATTAXKED_

_[gaywitCh1] : why am i awake and reading this_

_[glitterkink] : cosette ! i dotn know what 2 say !_

_[gaywitCh1] : courfeyrac ! why u actig gay_

_[glitterkink] : got me_

_[glitterkink] : serisouly does any1 mind me dragging this lost puppy guy along_

_[glitterkink] : he seeme d almost unporblmeatic ??_

_[jeHan grey uwu] : sure ill invite my Two pals :-))_

_[glitterkink] : OFC WE HAVE TO MEET AND APROVE THEM_

_[jeHan grey uwu] : Noted_

_[glitterkink] : if any of u kids has anyn thnig agains my boy tell m,_

_[glitterkink] : cause im texting him rn_

_[gaywitCh1] : is he queer tho cause if not ......_

_[buzzcut(e)] : cosette we dont support heterophobia in this group_

_[gaywitCh1] : lol_

_[gEywitch2] : are there any heteros in thsi group tho...... eye emoji......._

_[gaywitCh1] : AW BABE U UP :')_

_[gEywitch2] : ye got cold come back to bed wtf_

_[gaywitCh1] : afk afk afk_

_[glitterkink] : ..._

_[buzzcut(e)] : ...._

 

Enjolras loved his friends, he did. They were all incredible human beings and he was humbled that they cherished his company as much as he did theirs. But... Most of them were in functional relationships, which Enjolras had not had in a while, nor did he expect to have in the near future, and while he was beyond happy for them, hearing about their amazing love lives made him miserable. (Which was incredibly selfish and disgusting. He couldn't help it.) He tapped on his contact list.

 

_Hey, just wanted to say your poem is really interesting :) Sorry if I'm interrupting your interview?_

 

No reply came. Which was understandable, because, one, Michel said he had an interview, and two, he also hinted at having a life.

Thus, Enjolras decided to catch up on the novel he never had time for. It was a gripping tale of battles against an evil emperor, fantastic creatures and endless foreign lands, but he wasn't fond of reading on his phone - the screen was too tiny as well as too bright - and he rarely talked himself into finishing the book. Right then, he had nothing better to do, and reading took his mind off problems such as the horrible state of the world or of his life. Also, the longer he spends reading, the longer he isn't stressing over Michel. There's most definitely a reasonable explanation to why he hasn't texted back yet.

 

_[glitterkink] : hey u r coming to my party tonite?? righ?_

_[~enj~] : I already agreed to it?_

_[glitterkink] : yhea i kno_

_[glitterkink] : uve been quiet in the chat tho i thought u were down_

_[glitterkink] : R U THO_

_[~enj~] : All is fine! I am simply reading, that is why I don't engage in the conversation._

_[glitterkink] : oh ok cool_

_[glitterkink] : c u 2night then!!_

_[~enj~] : Sure!_

 

Damn it. What was he even going to _wear_?


	6. almost not filler......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> his is literally so late wtf  
> I don't own the Inheritance series, anything related to Marvel or their characters, Pokémon, Bakugan, or James O'Barr's amazing comics.  
> there are food mentions in this chapter.  
> chat stuff:  
> enjolras appears in italic and grantaire in italic+bold  
> ~enj~ is enj  
> gaywitCh1 is cosette  
> glitterkink is courfeyrac
> 
> (this chapter was supposed to have much more action but it got too long as it is)  
> (comments and kudos wld be nice aaa)

**_you wrnt interrupting i turned my phon off_ **

**_and thx again ^^_ **

 

_ You're welcome! _

_ How was the interview? _

 

**_alright i guess_ **

**_so what r u up 2_ **

 

_ I'm reading a book. You? _

 

**_ooh what book_ **

**_im not doig much i just got back 2 the hotel_ **

 

_ Book II of the Inheritance series, if this sounds any familiar to you. _

 

**_omg i read those!!! they were fun_ **

**_didnt take u for a fantasy type_ **

 

_ Contrary to popular beliefs, I don't engage in reading political theories 24/7, Michel :D _

 

**_not what i meant but yea that 2_ **

**_thought u wldnt b into heteronormative male-centric stuff_ **

 

_ Not normally, really, but there's a lot of anarchism involved, rejection of monarchy, and there are strong female characters, two of which women of color. _

_ Also, the plot moves me. _

 

**_knew there was sth political there lol_ **

**_btw i prefer being called grantaire if u dont mind_ **

 

_ Sure! _

_ Earlier, you mentioned having a comic book to read? _

 

**_yhea if only id arrived on time smh_ **

 

_ Which book would that be? _

 

**_the crow_ **

**_u might hve seen the movie on it but its not much like the movie tbh_ **

 

_ I've merely heard of this franchise, one of my friends is quite involved with it. _

_ She named her cat something related, if I remember correctly. _

 

**_if her cat's name is gabriel then yes_ **

**_also i want 2 meet her omg_ **

 

_ Gabriel, yes. _

_ Is the comic something you think I'd like? _

 

**_lol no_ **

**_defintiely not_ **

**_its v graphic theres a huge bunch of violence nd the main drive of the crow is revenge_ **

**_also so sad wtf_ **

**_i mostly reread these bc the art style is super good_ **

 

_ I see. _

 

**_idk mate its cool but like, if ur used to marvel/dc comics thats totally not it_ **

**_actually marvel or dc_ **

 

_ Marvel in terms of characters. _

_ But their movies are horrendous. _

 

**_same_ **

**_like the mcu is super messed up?? esp black widow wtf are they doig w her_ **

 

_ Right!! _

_ Also I have trouble following what is considered part of the canon universe anymore and it disturbs me a lot. _

 

**_Dude_ **

**_the hulk movie w ed norton_ **

**_why was iron man there_ **

 

_ More importantly, why didn't they keep Ed Norton? _

 

**_no the new guy is cool too just_ **

**_hulk is such an awesome character why do all movies abt him suck so much!_ **

 

_ I honestly wish I knew. _

 

**_ok ok important question_ **

**_pokemon or bakugan_ **

 

_ Bakugan, actually. _

 

**_omg_ **

 

_ What? _

 

**_literally no one picks bakugan over poke u r precious_ **

 

_ I am known to be contrary. _

 

**_:D_ **

**_holy shit my bodyguards r such babies_ **

 

_ You've said as much twice today, care to expand on that? _

 

**_шгещие исасъквдкя_ **

**_oops_ **

**_wrong keyboard_ **

**_*theyre ridiculous_ **

**_they met this person apparently and now shes dragging them 2 a party nd they need me 2 come w_ **

**_are they 12 or sth_ **

 

_ Okay, this is going to sound weird, but I believe I might be attenting the same party. _

_ If they met a person named Prouvaire, that is... _

 

**_yhea thats her_ **

**_jehan prouvaire?_ **

 

_ That is actually the one with the Gabriel cat. _

 

**_holy shit_ **

**_so shes a pal of urs_ **

 

_ Yes, she's a member of our social justice club. _

 

**_figures_ **

**_does someone named courfeyrac go ther 2 by any chance_ **

 

_ They do, in fact, how did you know? _

 

**_met them accidentally earier_ **

**_they invited me 2 their party too i guess its the same event_ **

 

_ Paris isn't that small usually, what the hell _

 

**_ikr_ **

**_is the party gna b political cause i dont think i shld come_ **

 

_ Not really, Courf throws parties every other week and they invite a whole lot of people, it's not specifically for us. _

 

**_im txting them rn and they cant believe evry1 has met_ **

 

_ Me neither, frankly. _

_ So, are you coming? _

 

**_well i cant let mont and rel go on their own_ **

**_eye emoji_ **

**_u?_ **

 

_ I do believe I am. _

 

**_nice_ **

**_btw courf doesnt know im a Rock Star TM and im not a bragging type of lad so_ **

**_idk it'd b nice if u didnt tell them_ **

 

_ You don't want them to know you make music? _

 

**_ppl treat me different if they know im famous_ **

**_and its not like my personality starts and ends w musician so_ **

 

_ I'll keep quiet, rest assured. _

_ But I'll have to inform my sister, she's a fan of yours and might start yelling a lot. _

 

**_yikes_ **

**_you hve a sis?_ **

 

_ Yes, she's four years older than me and she's very flippant about it. _

 

_ [~enj~] : Hey your musician is coming to Courf's and you have to not make a scene _

_ [~enj~] : Else he'll feel uncomfortable _

_ [gaywitCh1] : wow ok _

_ [gaywitCh1] : did u two hook up already or,,,, _

_ [~enj~] : WTFaa Sette _

_ [gaywitCh1] : tonight then ;) _

_ [~enj~] : Unbelievable _

 

_ She has been informed. _

 

**_thx mate thats neat_ **

**_so i guess i'll see u ther?_ **

 

_ Yeah. _

 

**_fantastic_ **

**_btw check this song out_ **

**_screenshot32.jpg_ **

 

_ Will do! _

 

**_its a local band and theyre vry angry i think u'd like_ **

 

_ :D Nice. _

 

**_^^_ **

 

***

 

   Enjolras hadn't meant to be late to the party, truly - but once he'd found out the musician was to join, the matter of attire had gotten way more pressing. That and he'd spent his afternoon listening to Grantaire's music, which had turned out to be much more captivating than Enjolras had originally expected. The man sang of injustice in the world in his earlier pieces, however his later work seemed to be less and less believing in anything and Enjolras felt himself aching as he noticed the tendency. The lyrics were a mess but that was which made them sound genuine; while the first albums hit home, the later felt like the disappointment and hopelessness Enjolras tried not to dwell on too much when a rally was barely attended, when he read news of horrible occurrences that he could do nothing about, when it was way too late and he was working on a speech which felt less significant by the minute because obviously the people didn't care enough to yell it with him. He understood Grantaire too well, and was no longer angry with the musician's lack of interest in the state of the world - rather, he was saddened. Had they met earlier, perhaps Enjolras could have helped him conserve his faith…

   (He reached for his phone every other minute, craving to ask the other about a certain line or to comment on another, but he didn't want to be a nuisance.)

   Finally entering Courfeyrac and Combeferre's shared apartment, Enjolras was faced with the usual crowd. Most of the people he'd met before, either at parties or at meetings and then rallies, but he only engaged in the briefest conversations because he really, really needed Combeferre.

   Not that he couldn't ask the opinion of any other member of their friends circle, but Ferre was least likely to joke about him being a "tiny lost bird who's trying to learn how to life that's so adorable Chetta look at him". (Enjolras knew they meant no harm. He also knew he needed someone to treat him seriously right now.)

   Ferre was, as expected, cooking. There was probably a joke to be made about him not leaving the kitchen but Enjolras didn’t feel like joking, especially as the scent of chocolate chip cookies hit him. Honestly, bless Ferre’s ways of dealing with crowds. ”They’ll be ready in five, Cour- oh, hi, hon,” the cook smiled at him when he turned around. “Want a drink?” “Coffee?” Combeferre immediately fetched two cups and made himself tea as the coffee machine roared to life. “You look particularly dazzling tonight,” he gave Enjolras a pointed look. Which was fair, because the latter didn’t really fret over his appearance when it came to Courfeyrac’s parties. “Yeah, see, there’s this thing I need your help with?” Ferre handed him a steaming cup of coffee and they sat on the countertop. “So, there’s a guy, we met yesterday and,” Enjolras groaned at the memory, “and he was so fucking ridiculous, like, he doesn’t seem to believe in  _ anything _ , I was beyond annoyed.” “Enjolras, we’ve talked about this, you shouldn’t let other people’s lack of drive drag you down.” “No, see, that’s not the problem exactly.” “Oh?’’ “Yeah, well, we had coffee this morning. There was something we needed to discuss, that’s not really important to the situation though-” “The situation being?” Enjolras felt himself blush. He took a long sip from his drink. “Situation being, he turned out to be really interesting? Like, obviously he’s not into politics which is a downside but apparently he once was and, also he understands my issue with Marvel and he’s overall so pleasant to chat with? Also his hands and there’s that thing his jawline does and he has the nicest voice and?” “Does it confuse you that you’re interested in a person who doesn’t share your passion for politics or that you’re interested in general?” 

   Honestly, bless all of Ferre.

   “I wish he was more involved, yes, but in the same time, it doesn’t bother me that much that he isn’t? I don’t really understand him, yet he attracts me.” Combeferre hummed, then both of their phones buzzed. Group chat probably.

 

_    [glitterkink] : ok luvs me and the Boi r here i hope my husbadn isnt in the kitche aGain _

 

   Combeferre giggled, then sighed. “I’m not sure what you need help with, hon. Do you want advice on how to court him, cause I’m not sure I’m the right person to…” “No, that’s not… I just, do you think I should? Court him, as you put it.” Ferre shrugged. “If he’s got you this worried, I think you already want to. And who cares for shoulds?”

   “I literally can not believe you’re  _ oh my  _ God _ , Enjy, this look! _ ”

   Courfeyrac had always known how to make an entrance.

   “We’re waiting for the cookies, should be a minute now.” “Oh, I bet,” Courf rolled his eyes, then grinned at Enjolras. “ _ So _ , I hear you and my guest  _ know _ each other.” Enjolras was probably blushing again. Damn it. “I know most of your guests, Laurent, they come to all of your parties.” “Now don’t sass me, you know who I’m talking about.” At Enjolras’ unimpressed glare, Courfeyrac literally started batting his eyelashes. “You  _ know,  _ big brown eyes, the cutest dimple ever, wouldn’t stop talking about your cartoon preferences on the way here…” “He does have a fecking fascinating taste, though,” a voice comes from the doorway and Enjolras almost gets a heart attack.


End file.
